Far Shores
by Maeglin-Amandil
Summary: A sister of the Dark Flees the Midlands and finds herself in Cyrodiil.
1. Chapter 1

Far Shores Part I

The veil between the realm of the living and the underworld had been repaired; the stone of tears placed on its stand in the pillars of creation. The Keeper had lost. At least he had lost this time. There would be other times for him to triumph.

Sister Cidna was sure of it. If her efforts went as planned, the rifts to her master's dominion would be thrown open soon enough. It pained her to know that most of the other Sisters of the Dark had been slaughtered by the seeker and his entourage, but at least they were in the Underworld, with the one they all served.

She had killed many in service to the Keeper. Her magical throwing stars, known to most as the Dacra, had pierced the flesh of many. They were made by the Sisters of the Light, whom her own dark order had infiltrated, and looked to be three pointed stars made from oblong rings. All they need do was pierce the flesh of another, no matter how small the piercing would be, and a simple thought would allow the wielder to kill.

Additionally, the Dacra had the power to steal another's han, and grant it too the wielder. Han was the power to use magic, granted to the mortal races by the Keeper's most hated enemy, the Creator. The number of times she had used her Dacra to steal the power from others was countless. She now had the magical power of at least one hundred.

After the reparation of the veil, she had departed from the Midlands, taking a rare boat north. There were lands to the north that the people of her home had never heard of. The boundaries that once separated the Midlands from both Westland and D'Hara had fallen long ago, but the unknown ones that existed out to sea, keeping other nations away, were still as strong as ever.

It had been a stroke of luck that a sailor had mentioned to her, in a drunken stupor, that he knew of a way to sail north. The next day she had cast a web of charming magic over him, and he had willingly taken her and her fellow sister to his boat and set sail immediately.

The days of travel had been many after they had passed through a crack in the boundary, one made from a powerful blast of magic from her own hand. It was the power the Keeper had granted her that allowed her the ability to pass the boundary. He was of course the Keeper of the Underworld, and the boundaries themselves were part of the Underworld drawn into the living realm and given purpose. But then there was land on the horizon.

Their sailor friend told them that this was the Wood Elven province of Valenwood. Cidna had never even dreamed that there were other races that could act as humans could, but the seaman had spoken of many other races of elves and even bestial races that inhabited these northern lands.

They were not to stop in Valenwood. The boat was heading for the central region of this northern nation, Cyrodiil. The sailor had once said that these lands were collectively known as Tamriel, and that their languages were similar to those of the Midlands. This would not cause her a problem, she had magic in her possession that let her speak all languages as if she had known them for a life time.

The moon was above them when they caught sight of land once more. It was the port of Anvil, their intended destination, on the western front of Cyrodiil. Her nose had become accustomed to the salty ocean air many leagues ago, but there was something distinct about this bay that made her once more taken in a long breath. A low wind swept over her face, whipping the red veil behind her head into a small frenzy before letting it loose once more.

Both the sisters of the light and dark wore the traditional plain red robes with matching veil. There were countless similarities between both factions. But the differences were that of morality and master. Of Keeper and of Creator.

'Sister?' it was her companion, Sister Uta.

'Yes?' she replied.

'The sailor tells me that we shall soon reach the land. What are we to do with him? We cannot have him simply wandering around and telling people of us.'

'Of course we can't. But he has no Han worth taking, he's ungifted,' she reasoned.

Uta gave her an awkward look. 'Must we only kill for Han now, Sister? What happened to giving every life we could to the Keeper? We failed to win him the war against the living, each soul helps to appease his lust for our blood.'

Cidna chuckled, 'the Keeper is not a kind master, at least not to failures.'

'You have nothing to fear. You were stronger than most of the Sisters when we both served the light at the Palace of the Prophets. Since you have taken the Han from so many, even males, you are now among the strongest of all the Sisters.' Uta was pouting, she was the most arrogant of all the Sisters Cidna had served with.

And that is why she would offer her to the Keeper, so that he would grant her more favours in the foreign land.

She drew her Dacra and moved to Uta's side. 'Send our master my regards.'

Uta spun around, her eyes wide, 'what!'

One of the star's points hammered into her chest. She fell back, gasping for breath. 'What is this? You need me!' Uta's eyes were alive with anger. Had the Dacra not been clutching her Han, she would have unleashed her magic.

'I need your Han to succeed. And you've failed the Keeper too many times to count.' Cidna leant forward, 'send him my regards,' she repeated. Opening her mind to her Han, she felt the Dacra's magic take effect. A soft glow passed from Uta's skin as her life and Han were taken.

Cidna sighed in relaxation. She was stronger now. Her eyes closed as she prayed to the Keeper. 'This time, you shall win...my Lord.'


	2. Chapter 2

Far Shores Part II

Cyrodiil was a strange place indeed. Her guide had docked the ship in Anvil and proceeded into an inn, obviously not wanting anything more to do with her. Cidna didn't know if he knew exactly what she had done to her sister, but he had said nothing and avoided talking to her as soon as they were on land.

After buying supplies with some of the sailor's strange coin, she was glad to head out of the bustling port-city and into a calm enough woodland area. Withdrawing the map from her pack, she spread it over a rock. She had moved away from the main road, enough not to be interrupted, but not far enough to be out of ear-shot.

Her map was detailed enough to get her on her way. She was currently in a region called the Gold Coast, in which were two main settlements, the first being Anvil and the second further along the road to the east named Kvatch. It looked as if the name of the latter city had been erased from the map and written back there again, but she had not the time to wonder as too why such a thing may have happened.

She knew that her mission was clear. She needed to obtain an artefact with power enough to rival even that of Orden. Once she had it, the spell she would then cast was sure to tear the veil once more, allowing her master to renew his war against a world that had not yet recovered from his first charge. This item was known as the Amulet of Kings; a royal ruby set into a gold chain. Only a member of the Royal Line was able to wear it and use its powers, but there was not limitation on the magic another to cast over it.

According to the Lore she had read, the Amulet of Kings had passed from the hands of the last emperor, a priest named Martin, as he used its power to defend all of Tamriel from an invasion from Oblivion. Now, it was held in the Royal Palace, kept under the watchful eye of the new governing council. They used its power to keep order, though none knew how they were able too, considering that they lacked the royal blood.

So, if the amulet was at the palace, and the palace was in the heart of the imperial city, that was where she was headed. The eastern road would pass the city of Kvatch and then the city of Skingrad before turning north and then east once more across the bridge to the imperial city gates.

Cidna rolled up the map. It would be a long journey, but she had seen some horses in a stable by the gates. However, she doubted she had enough coins to buy one and letting her power levels be known wouldn't be wise.

Thus, the great sorceress decided to walk.

It was only after an hour or so of walking that Cidna was certain someone was watching her. She could hear the odd foot fell from beyond the edges of the rode, and the occasional shadow would drift across the edge of her sight. She had her mind link with her han as she walked, ready to use it should she come under threat.

Her journey went unchanged for at least twenty minutes further before the strike came. Knives came at her through the trees, whistling as the air itself parted to let the blades through.


End file.
